Nothing New
by Dezarae
Summary: Ben and Abi are in England on their honeymoon. Ben gets them involved in another treasure hunt, much to Abi's dismay. Meanwhile, unknown to his friends, Riley is dealing with the death of someone close to him, and may be sent on an adventure of his own...
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all! This is the new story I have been working on. I posted the last one pretty fast, but that was because I had already finished it when I decided that I would post it. This story is my new muse, and it is not finished. So it might take a while for me to post all of it. I hope you all enjoy it and please! Any reviews would be greatly appreciated. **********

**To give you an idea of the setting: Ben and Abigail have finally been married, and are now on their honeymoon! Woo! Lol. They are in England, staying in a 5 star hotel/resort.**

**Disclaimer: Sadly since my last story I have still not come into possession of anything to do with National Treasure.**

Abigail Gates stood on the shore of the exotic beach staring out at the rolling waves that sparkled and winked at her. She loved it here, it was beautiful. The sand beneath her feet was warm. She wiggled her toes and felt the sand seep between them, the miniscule grains spreading everywhere. It was white sand, which only increased the scenic beauty. To add to the cliché the sun was setting, and that was what she was focused on at the moment.

"Isn't it beautiful Ben?" she asked her new husband, who was sitting next to her feet piling sand into what she could only assume was supposed to be a sand castle of sorts.

"Yes, the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he answered standing and brushing all the sand off of himself, taking her in his arms, and staring straight at her.

When she noticed that it was she, and not the sunset that he was staring at, she blushed and ducked her head into his shoulder. "Ben Gates, you are a smooth talker; you know that?"

"That's part of the reason you married me," he replied with a grin, looking her up and down. "The other reason you married me is my charming wit and devilishly handsome looks,"

She grinned at him; "You wish!" she called before pushing away from him and taking off down the beach. He chased after her and grabbed her, bringing then down to the sand, where he began to tickle her mercilessly.

"Ah! Ben stop it," she giggled, her blonde hair flying about her as she tried to escape her husband.

"Never, at least not until you admit to me that you married me for my looks and my superior wit,"

"That would be a lie," she managed to tease through her gasps.

"Okay then, I guess I'll just have to keep tickling you," he said as if it didn't bother him in the least.

"Alright! I give up; I married you because you are the best looking guy I've ever met. And you're wit is second to no other," she gasped out.

He snorted and leaned down to kiss her. "I love you, Mrs. Gates," he whispered.

"I love you Mr. Gates," she replied with a shy smile. She gasped as the tide brought the water up to them.

He laughed and splashed her, then took off into the ocean with her close on his heels.

Life was paradise, no problems. No life altering treasure, no Riley whining about whatever he would be whining about at the time. Not that they minded some whining, it was Riley- he wouldn't be the same without a little bit of whining. But everyone needed a little break, it was their honeymoon anyways. And no one had their room number, ensuring they wouldn't be interrupted if they didn't want to be. They had left their phones in the room, and put them on silent. It was the perfect honeymoon.

--

When they returned to the hotel, they took a shower and prepared for an evening together. They were going to one of the best restaurants in the area, as recommended by the concierge.

Waiting for women had been a hard learned lesson for Ben Gates because; lets face it: he wasn't very patient. One might think this absurd when considering the fact that he spent a huge portion of his life looking for the Templar Treasure and was not discouraged even when people told him it didn't exist. That was totally different. Ben had always been a little bit edgy when it came to waiting for people.

Take his high school girlfriend Emmy for example. His lack of patience was what caused their break up. It was not a fond memory of his past and he preferred not to think about it. And even now, with Abigail. But the fact that she was his wife and that he loved her more than anything kept him from making comments and ruining a perfectly good evening.

He reminisced upon this fact. No matter how early you told them to be ready- even if you said a little bit earlier than you really meant so they would be ready on time- they still weren't ready. So what was one left to do? The classic examples are to: sit idly by on a couch twiddling your thumbs; or in the car tapping your fingers on the dashboard; or as happened to be this case- on a bed in the five star hotel room in your resort flipping restlessly through the television channels.

Ben was cursing women's incessant need to keep men waiting when the door to the crazy, and in his mind unnecessarily, large bathroom opened.

"You look amazing," Ben breathed in awe, as she entered the room wearing a black evening dress, her beautiful hair cascading around her shoulders. And she smiled, her eyes shining. "Shall we?" she asked.

Maybe, he thought to himself, waiting was worth it _sometimes_.

"We most definitely shall," he agreed, taking her extended arm.

The dinner was indeed excellent, and they danced too. Abigail enjoyed that part the best.

The next thing they did was to retire to their room with a bottle of champagne for the evening; where they fully intended to enjoy each other's company.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2! This is what Riley is doing while Ben and Abigail are over in England. Poor guy, he can't ever get a break can he? In this chapter, I quote the movie: Casablanca- I'm not sure if its completely accurate- quote wise, but you'll get the picture. Kudos to you if you've seen this movie!**

**Disclaimer: Need I say more? Oh wait, I forgot. I did mention Casablanca in this chapter and I must reaffirm the fact that I do not own Casablanca either. :-(**

Back in the states, Riley was sitting on his couch re-reading a certain letter for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was from his Great Uncle Jonathan, it said to come and see him at the bookstore, and more importantly the fact that his grandfather, Richard "Ricky" Poole was dead.

He considered calling Ben for a moment, but dismissed the thought as ridiculous. Ben and Abi were on their honeymoon. He was sure they would not appreciate his call. Maybe he could deal with this and by the time they were back there would be nothing left to worry about.

For most people, getting a letter about the death of your favorite grandparent would be a sobering experience- even if you were drunk. Fortunately, Riley Poole was not drunk; not _very _drunk anyways. How much alcohol did it take for a person to become drunk? Three glasses of wine? Six Beers? Eh, either way he'd only had two glasses of wine and four beers. He vaguely remembered something from his high school chem. class about the person's body mass and the amount consumed. But he really wasn't in the mood to bother with that. He wasn't concerned about the effects if the alcohol, he was still reading the letter. As if the letter might magically rewrite itself and become a much happier letter that his Uncle had just sent in a friendly manner.

Nope, no magic; it was the same letter he had been reading for almost three hours. He massaged his temples, wanting desperately for this mess to be over. He hated sad stories and funerals. And yet they kept creeping up on him, when he was least expecting them. Riley should have learned to expect them long ago. He tossed the letter down on his lavish and expensive coffee table and sighed, taking a swig from his most recent beer. Not intoxicated-shall we say- enough to make destructive decisions about driving, he made the decision to go see his Uncle in the morning.

Reseating himself on the couch in a more comfortable manner, he pressed play on the DVD remote and changed his focusto the movie instead- Casablanca as it were.

Casablanca had been his dad's favorite movie, and Riley remembered watching it every year on Christmas eve, exactly at midnight ( this was after he found out there was no Santa Claus, it was a rather disappointing situation, but a story for another time…). And then there were the various times that his dad just watched the movie for fun, sometimes his Grandfather would come over and watch it too. Riley liked the movie because it was in black and white. Something about old black and white movies had always fascinated and captivated him; he got that from his father. His grandfather had always found his son's and grandson's obsession with the movie rather odd. But had given up on trying to figure it out long ago.

Riley shook his head, banishing all thoughts of his grandfather and father.

"_How many long was it we had honey?" Rick Blaine growled at Ilsa._

"_I didn't count the days," she answered, all teary eyed, looking down in shame._

"_Well I did-every one of them. But mostly I remember the last one. The wild finish. The guy standing on the train platform in the rain with a comical look on his face because his insides had just been ripped out."_

Where did Ilsa get off trying to walk back into Rick Blaine's life anyway? He had always wondered this, and these were his thoughts as he fell asleep.

---

Riley's uncle Jonathan was an interesting person. The man was rake thin, warm and gentle, and completely crazy. Riley wondered how he would survive with out his Grandfather. Uncle Jonathan was his mother's brother. He used to ask his grandpa why he took care of Uncle Jonathan so much, and he would always answer by saying "We take care of each other. With out him, I'd be in the dark ages,"

He wasn't sure whether to believe his grandfather, but he owed it to both of them show up, so that's what he was doing. He stood on the sidewalk looking up at the big sign for his grandfather's bookstore." A piece of history," it read- a map drawn behind it.

He had always wondered why his grandfather would use a dumb name like that, but it didn't seem to bother any of the customers. He walked into the store and looked around, it sure hadn't changed much. Riley remembered spending lots of time here as a kid, reading various books from the old shelves. The place _was _a piece of history at the very least; his grandparents had started it when they eloped and got married. They had moved to Washington D.C. the nation's capitol in a particularly patriotic moment, and that was how they bought the space that would be the bookstore. And somehow Uncle Jonathan ended up in the mix.

Not many people knew much about his childhood, even Ben and Abi only knew part of it. His parents had split up when he was only four. There had been no harsh feelings between the two. Angie and Michael Poole had split on non-acrimonious terms. Things simply hadn't worked out for them. There were no ill feelings, Riley lived mainly with his father because his mom's job required her to travel a lot; but spent most weekends and thanksgiving with his mom. And in during his youth, his father insisted he spend time with his Grandfather. Riley had no problem with this seeing as his Grandfather was one of his favorite people.

His father was currently deceased; he had been killed in a bank hold up when Riley was 21. After this horrific event in his life, he had sort of lost touch with his grandpa. He never meant too, but it just happened. And now, it was too late for him to change it. Wasn't that just the way things went? You never realized what you had until it was gone and you were left missing it.

"Well hello, long time no see,"

He turned around and found himself being engulfed in a bear hug by his uncle. "Hi Uncle Jon," he whispered into the older man's shoulder.

"How you been kiddo?" Jonathan asked pulling away from his nephew.

Riley gave him a half-hearted smile, "I've been okay…Okay, that's a lie. I've been okay up unto this point, and now I'm not. Okay, that is. I'm so sorry Uncle Jonathan, I should have been here. But I wasn't. And there was no excuse, I mean that he is…was my grandpa and I totally ditched him. But I'm here now, if that counts for anything."

"Son, son, please. Stop babbling. You babble when your upset, did you know that? None of this is your fault. Shit happens, we got to deal with it and move on. Ricky wouldn't have wanted you to anyways. So come on, let's go." the old man said clapping his hands.

Riley gave him a betrayed look. "Wait a minute; aren't you even upset about this?"

Jonathan sagged a little and turned back to face him. "Of course I care! The man was my brother in law and my best friend! But in the end he was happy, he'd lived a full life, and he had no regrets. Except one, that he couldn't say goodbye to you. So yes, I'm upset. But no, I'm not going to mourn him, because I know that he's happy. So let's get moving!"

"Oh," he said.

Jonathan flipped the open sign to "closed" and ushered Riley out.

"Where are we going?" Riley asked curiously.

"The bank," Uncle Jonathan replied.

Riley stopped in the middle of the sidewalk watching his retreating back. "What? Why?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: This chapter's events are most definitely not historically accurate. Except the part about the "Mary Rose" setting sail from England in 1545 during the Tudor dynasty. The artifacts part is not real. I'm sure most of you know this; I just thought I would reinforce the fact. I will go into greater detail about this in later chapters. Also, this new idea is not fully developed, so there may be corrections or further details later.**

**Reviews are appreciated.**  
**Disclaimer: I don't own National Treasure **

"Oh my gosh! That was so much fun!" Abigail's accent was slightly stronger in her current state. She stumbled slightly, and Ben grabbed her elbow.

Ben smiled at the people in the entryway to the club they had decided to visit after the restaurant. The walk back to the hotel was eventful to say the least. Not only was Abigail a bit ditsy when drunk, but she was an impulsive drunk. That is how they ended up in the fountain near the plaza, at two in the morning.

Abigail felt like so alive! She wanted to _do_ something! That was how they ended up running away from a cop, (for a reason that Ben couldn't and didn't want to remember) and ultimately how they ended up in jail. Ben could feel a migraine coming on at this point. He showed the officer on duty his ID, and told them who they were (he was not above using his wealth and famousness to get out of a situation), but the guy had not been in a particularly good mood. So, with his one phone call he called the Concierge at the Resort they were staying in. He explained the situation, and asked kindly if the man could help them out and he'd be sure to refund the hotel for any costs.

The concierge, unlike the police officer, had been in a good mood. Probably because the Gates' family were one of his richest customers, and as things go in the world of money: the richer you are, the more benefits you reap. The concierge-Richard, as they found out was his name later- managed to arrange their release, charge free. Ben felt like he could have kissed the guy at that moment.

When he finally managed to get her back to the resort, the bell boys and people at the desk were giving him looks. He shrugged his shoulders, "She had a little much too drink,"

--

The next morning Abigail was not her happy-go-lucky self that had reared its ugly head the night before. Instead she was downright grumpy.

"Here, compliments of the room's coffee pot." Ben supplied her with the coffee.

She grabbed it from him greedily and began drinking it quickly. "Ugh, my head feels like someone bashed it open,"

"If I had known that you were a cheap drunk, _Mrs. Gates_, I would have taken advantage of that long ago," he quipped.

The steely look she gave him would have made him keel over into an early grave. Fortunately looks couldn't kill, and he just sat down next to her and patted her on the shoulder. "First hangover?" he teased.

"No!" she said defensively. "It just doesn't take that much to get me…tipsy."

"I clearly saw that last night, and you mean drunk," Ben grinned.

Abigail looked outraged, "I was not drunk!"

Ben clapped his hands next to her ears and she gasped and covered them. "Don't do that!"

At his pointed look she just rolled her eyes and finished her coffee. "You wanna get some breakfast? I could use a little bit of food in my stomach."

He refrained from making a smart comment because he didn't want to get into trouble, and nodded in agreement. "Okay,"

Breakfast was at a relatively large diner-type restaurant. It was "cute" as Abigail put it. Not the word Ben would have used, but it was sufficient. It had good pancakes that was for sure. While they were eating, their waitress Rosie brought them the Newspaper they had requested. Finally Abi was starting to feel better, the hangover was all but gone, and she was brightening up.

They split the paper up into sections, Abigail taking the recent events, and Ben taking the front page.

"Hey, Abigail, look at this," Ben said after scanning the page.

"What is it?"

"They found a letter from the glorious revolution, from King William to an unnamed member of parliament, concerning the remains of one of Henry Tudor's (King Henry the Eighth) former wives. Supposedly she was supposed to have held the key to finding a long missing group of artifacts. The artifacts dated back to the early 9th century, when they had begun disappearing. Centuries of artwork, sculptures, writings etc. that had been missing from public view until the Tudor dynasty caught wind of it.

According to the legend, at least a part of the treasure was recovered, and it was put aboard the "Mary Rose" in 1545 one of the days' high tech ships… and she set sail to the Americas where the artifacts could be protected- as was the wish of Henry's former wife. But the ship sunk on the coast of Florida. Attempts were made to recover the ship, but it was eventually forgotten after several failed tries. Over the centuries, the old attempts to recover it flared up again, but no one had ever been able to bring up the ship that had sunken into the mud- it weighed at least seven tons. It _was _recovered though, in the early 1800's. It was restored and returned to port in England after a little over 350 years. When the descendants of those who were looking for or protecting the treasure searched for the treasures aboard the ship, there was no sign of it. "

Abigail's eyebrows rose as she read the article for herself. "Interesting,"

He looked at her with a smile.

"Oh come on Ben! Seriously, you aren't thinking what I think you're thinking are you? This is my honeymoon. Our honeymoon. Save the treasure hunting for another time, maybe never. I mean we've already found enough treasure for a lifetime!"

Ben gave her a puppy dog look, not nearly as effective as if Riley had been doing it, but it was worth a try. "Come on, I don't want to really do anything about it. Just, you know, look into it. Read up; find a new story to tell Riley when we get home. Please?"

Abigail sighed and gave him a moody look; he was unsure if it was due to her hang over or his request to look into the treasure. It could have been a mixture. "Fine, but only for a little while, we had better get back to our honeymoon soon."

"Yes!" Ben pumped his fist in the air. "You're the best. Have I ever told you that I love you?"

Abigail rolled her eyes. Not that she would admit it to his face, but she was somewhat interested in this new distraction.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey! Ch. 4! And this one is about Riley.  
Ok, well, here goes.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing that has to do with national Treasure.**

"Alright Mr. Poole, Mr. Edwards (Jonathan), are you ready to open the safety deposit box?" the stiff and proper bank teller asked politely.

The two exchanged looks and nodded. He put the key into the box and opened it. He nodded at them, "Well, I'll leave you two to it, if you need anything at all just call for me,"

"Will do," Uncle Jonathan said tiredly.

Left alone to look at the contents of the box, they exchanged looks again and took the deep plunge. Riley pulled out a letter addressed to _"My Family."_

_My Beloved family,_

_I am assuming that right now, "my beloved family" includes my favorite grandson and my best friend, since you are about the only family I have left. Please don't waste your time mourning for me because I'm truly happy with how my life has turned out. I never wasted a day or regretted any of my decisions. I am happy to say that all the wrinkles I have are from happy moments. The only thing I wish I could have done before my death is to reconnect with you Riley. I want you to know I've followed your career very closely and am your biggest fan. I have something for you my boy; I'm leaving you the book store. You and Jon are officially charged with taking care of it and making sure it stays open. I know this is probably not what a bright, head strong man wants to do with his future and I'm not asking you to drop everything and run it, no I think Jonathan is capable of that for now. All I ask of you is to stay interested. And stay involved. That store meant a lot to your Grandma and me. Take care of it. _

_And Riley, your dad would be so proud of you. I'll give him your best shall I?_

_Jonathan, you are my best friend. Stay strong in the years to come, I'll always be with you. You have been by my side ever since Margaret died, and for that I thank you. You have indulged an old man's needs to have a friend with him._

_Good bye my friend._

_On a final note: all of my worldly possessions are to be left to the two of you. Divide them up however you wish, and be nice. Take care of the things in this box, they are important. _

_Love,_

_Ricky Poole (Your beloved friend and grandfather)_

Riley felt his eyes tearing up, but swiped furiously at them. Riley Poole didn't cry. He looked over and his uncle seemed to be doing the same thing.

"He left me the store," Riley said, sounding somewhat shocked.

"I _can_ read, you know." the old man replied swatting at him. He surveyed the rest of the contents of the lock box, "Let's see what else is in here,"

They both reached into the box and pulled out items. Riley pulled out a small box, and he looked at it with a small smile. He opened it, and his suspicions were confirmed. It was his grandmother's engagement ring. "Hey Uncle Jon, can I have this?" he asked holding it up.

A smile wrinkled his face and he smacked Riley on the back, hard. "Son, that ring is yours, as long as you promise me that you'll use it one day, and not just keep it as a keepsake. I would really like a Great niece or nephew someday. I'm not going to stay young forever,"

"Oh, well then, since you're in such a hurry I'd better just walk out into the street and propose to the first charming lady who smiles at me…and since when have you been young? The last time you were considered young was probably in like 1891."

His uncle rolled his eyes at him. "Funny. You're a real smart ass, but I don't see the ladies falling all over you; you'd probably be lucky for one just to look at you."

"Ha ha," Riley retorted. "Hey, what do you have there?"

Jonathan looked at the item in his hands, it was a picture album. "What does it look like I'm holding?"

Riley resisted the urge to smack his head on the table in front of him, "Well what are the pictures of?"

Jonathan smiled fondly, and patted the old book. He flipped it open and his smile grew wider, it was a young picture of the four of them at a restaurant for New Year's Eve. It was Ricky, Margaret, his Anna, and himself. "This little book holds a lot of memories,"

He passed it over to Riley who took it eagerly and looked through it. He stopped on one of the last pictures. It was of him and his dad, in front of the bookstore posting flyers for some sale or something. It was possibly the last picture he had taken with his dad. He blinked back the tears for a third time in 24 hours.

"Hey, look at this," his uncle beckoned him with a hand, and he hastily set the photo album aside and moved closer to see what the man next to him was holding. It was a very old, very antique looking, yellowing and faded document on a piece of parchment.

"What is that?" Riley asked with a frown. The words weren't even in English; they looked like hieroglyphics to him, Egyptian hieroglyphics if he was right. He had taken an ancient languages class in college, partly on a whim, and partly because he needed a language credit and this seemed easier than learning the languages themselves.

That was beside the point though, what was going through his mind was, 'why would grandpa have an ancient Egyptian document?'

"What is this? Is this Chinese or something? Those commies, they're everywhere..." his uncle began; a tangent was soon to follow.

But Riley cut him off at the pass, "No, no, Uncle Jonathan it's not Chinese it's Egyptian I think; And calling members of the communist party 'commies' is politically incorrect and mostly frowned upon these days. It's something like racial profiling, and you could get locked up for that, you know? Plus, it's just downright rude. I mean how would you like it if someone was like, 'Those darn…whities!'?"

His uncle glared at him, and quipped: "How would you know what language this is sonny? I don't recall you ever learning Egyptian or any other foreign language. You can barely speak English as it is."

"I took a class about ancient languages in college, you'd be surprised what they teach there." he smirked.

"Well then, Mr. Smarty pants, what does the document say?" he asked eyebrows raised.

Riley sighed, "I never said I could _read _it, I just said I knew it was Egyptian. I'm not very skilled at it, I only know a little." he took the document and examined it, all the while smiling. Abigail would have a fit if she knew he was handling an ancient document without wearing some kind of protective gloves. He'd have to be sure to leave that part out of his tale when he told her.

"It says something about two princes (or Egyptian equivalent) and betrayal. I…can't really tell after that. This is weird, why would Grandpa have something like this?" he thought for a moment, "Hmm…we need to get this translated, I hate to do this, but I wouldn't be me if I didn't call and interrupt Ben at least once during his honeymoon." he grinned evilly.

He hit his speed dial number 2 and waited to hear the ring.


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, new chapter! Yes! This story is kinda slow going because I do not have all of the story threads for this one worked out. Riley is on his own for a while, while Ben and Abi are in England doing their own thing. The name of this story has changed, because I didn't think that one fit it really well. the new title will explain itself eventuallly through the story. I name my stories initially by whatever pops into my head when I save the first part, lol. Even if its something random like: JJJhds. But usually, its nothing like that in case you're wondering. Ok, so here goes, Enjoy! Feel free to inform me about mistakes, because its been awhile since I've read over this. Also, any ideas you have are welcome.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own National Treasure, except secretly...Well not even secretly. Dang it.**

Still sitting at the breakfast table, they were interestedly pouring over the section in the paper about the remains of the manuscript that was centuries old. It was said to have been dated back to the Glorious Revolution, in fact written by the Constitutional Monarch William of Orange around the time of the publishing of the English bill of rights that was also passed during the rule of "William and Mary."

Their food arrived and they set it aside and looked happily at the food-Abigail's headache seemed to have faded a little bit, because she wasn't in quite as bad a mood as before. They talked idly of what they would do that day and ate their scrumptious breakfast. Ben's cell phone rang shrilly, surprising them both.

"You brought your cell phone to the restaurant?" she whined.

"Yes, in case of emergency. Oh hey it's Riley. I'm surprised he hasn't tried calling before now," Ben said with a shrug.

Abi gave him a look that said "please don't answer it!" but rolled her eyes when he pulled his best puppy dog face.

"Fine, fine. You two are only apart for like four days and you can't even ignore his call," she pouted.

"I have to take his call Abigail, or else he'll give me that sad look the next time we see each other, the one that makes you do whatever he wants and then you feel bad if you don't."

Abi rolled her eyes, "Just answer it."

He grinned at her and flipped open the cell phone, "Hello?"

"Hey Ben, its Riley. I..."

"Really?" Ben asked with mock seriousness. "I thought it was someone else using your name."

"Shush, Ben. I need to talk to Abi and I didn't feel like pressing the speed dial for her number because I knew she wouldn't pick up."

Ben made an annoyed noise. "Well fine, see if I answer your call next time I'm not supposed to; here Abi…"

Abi looked at him strangely. "What?"

"He wants to talk to _you_." Ben replied in annoyance. "My best friend and he wants to talk to you,"

"Hello Riley,"

"Hey Abigail," he greeted her. "I have a question for you. So, my friend recently found an ancient Egyptian document- and I was wondering if maybe you knew anyone who would translate it for him?"

On her end of the conversation, Abigail looked thoughtful. "Well, I know a guy at the University. His name is Dr. Ahmed Élan. If your friend tells the good doctor that I sent him, then he should be happy to."

"Thanks Abi, you are a total lifesaver, have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"Shhhh Riley, Ben is right here," she replied in a mock whisper, which earned her a glare from her husband. She smiled and gave Riley Dr. Élan's number.

He chortled as he took down the number. "Thanks again. I'll see you two love birds when you get home, and don't do anything I wouldn't do. Ciao."

"Bye," she flipped the phone closed and handed it back to Ben.

"What did he want?" Ben asked curiously, looking up from his pancakes.

"I don't know-something about a friend of his finding an Egyptian document. He wanted to know if I knew anyone who could translate it." She answered disinterestedly. "At least he's found something to do, rather than just lounge around the house or spend all his time on that computer of his."

"Yeah, that's true," Ben said turning his attention back to his pancakes. "So I was thinking that we should go to the museum where this letter is at and talk to the curator."

"Sounds like a plan to me, after we finish breakfast we can head over there. They should be eager to help us anyways, since we did donate a good portion of the treasure to it."

"That's true." He grinned and shook himself, he was giddy. He was excited. A new treasure to look for!

Abigail's nose crinkled and she rolled her eyes, it was kinda endearing when he looked so exited. It was like a kid on Christmas morning who knew what he was going to get before he opened the present.

"You're cute," she remarked with a happy glimmer in her eyes.

He gave her a bewildered look, but smiled back all the same.

"Where should we go first?"

She considered this. "The curator,"

"The curator," Ben agreed with a grin. "Good choice."

--

Riley stood outside of the **D.C. school of social sciences **looking up at it. It was a cool looking place, he had to admit. He had decided to drop his uncle back off at the store so that he could do this alone. It wasn't that his uncle wouldn't have been welcome company; it was more like he was afraid that the man would embarrass both himself and his nephew, or insult someone. Either way it was not the desired effect or impression he wanted to have on the college. Making his way into Constitution Hall, he observed the door numbers. Abigail had told him that Dr. Élan was on the third floor, room 302.

He soon discovered that Dr. Élan was a native of Egypt, and was definitely nothing like he had pictured in his head. Riley had pictured a stiff, well dressed and graying man in his later years with a gruff disposition but a good sense of humor. Instead, the man was about Riley's own height; with darkened skin that only comes from living somewhere in the Middle East, and he was young. The doctor looked to be about 34, and he definitely wasn't wearing the dress slacks and nice shirt. He wore jeans that fit him snuggly with a somewhat dressy whites shirt; un-tucked.

'_Interesting,'_ Riley thought to him self. He gently rapped on the door frame and coughed, making his presence known. The man looked up from his desk and beckoned Riley forward.

"Dr. Elan," he began.

"If you're here to see your test grade, I'm sorry but I just haven't finished grading them. I have over 400 students you know." The young man (though a little older than Riley) said a little harshly in an accent that was more Americanized than Riley had imagined.

"No, I'm sorry sir. I'm not here about the test. I'm not even in your class,"

The teacher interrupted him yet again, not even bothering to look up; Riley was starting to become annoyed with him.

"Well then, if you're here about joining the class, there's no room left, but I can put your name on a list."

"Look up from your work for a second. Do I look like a student to you?" Riley asked in agitation.

He finally looked up, "Well…no. I guess you don't; well if you're not a student, what can I do for you?"

"My name is Riley Poole, and a mutual friend of ours- Abigail Gates, well I guess she was Abigail Chase up until recently,"

"Ahh," Dr. Élan said standing up, a smile lighting up his face. "Forgive me; I thought…well, you know what I thought. Please, please come, have a seat. Any friend of Abigail's is welcome here, Mr…. ah?"

"Poole, Riley Poole. Thank you," he answered sitting down and pulling out the document. He paused, curious, "How do you and Abigail know each other?"

"We met a long time ago, in high school," he replied in his heavily accented baritone. "We dated for a while actually,"

Riley coughed and began choking.

"Are you alright?" the professor asked in concern when he stopped.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm good. I was just…coughing. Anyways, Dr. Élan, I…"

"Please, call me Max." the man interrupted again.

Riley sighed in exaggeration, "Alright, Max. Wait, why Max?"

"Max" chuckled, "Well it's easier than trying to pronounce my full name, so I just tell people to call me Max. So, was there something I could do for you?"

Riley was cool, choosing to ignore the last comment; because wasn't it obvious he came here for a reason? "Yeah, I do actually. My Grandfather just passed away and found this document in his safety deposit box; I wasn't sure but I thought it was Egyptian and Abi said that you were my man for translation."

"May I see the document?" he queried, standing up and putting on some reading glasses.

Riley handed it to him, "I took an Egyptology class when I was younger, and I picked up a little bit of Ancient Egyptian, but not enough to be fluent. I think it says something about a prince (Again- the Egyptian equivalent) and betrayal."

"Max" nodded, but did not look up as he concentrated on the sheet before him. It was a good half an hour before the man looked up again, and Riley was bored out of his skull. He took to counting the tiles on the ceiling and noted that there was an irregularity in their formation. The fact that this fascinated him was proof positive of how bored he was.

Max had been scribbling on a notepad for a few minutes when he finally looked up, a somewhat confused look on his face. "I've finished translating this. And I must say, I have no idea why your grandfather would have such a document."

"What is it," Riley was immensely glad to have something other than the ceiling to focus on.

"Well, it's a…It's a manuscript that dates back to the earliest times of Egypt. To the third Pharaoh () I believe. It's a myth in Egyptian history, about the two princes who were born two years apart. There was an intense bond between the two, from a young age. Their names were Hafed and Seti. According to the legend, the younger of the two was obsessed with continuing to stay wealthy, and have the family be well liked and at the very least dominating. The older, well he was a dreamer. He was a romantic, and was a firm believer in the people. Even though the two were vastly different, they were best friends. Until one day, when their father died.

And…"

"Yeah, I know they Seti tried to kill Hafed for the throne, but the god Anubis cast accurse upon them for the greed they displayed. They both disappeared, and Egypt was thrown into war, I remember learning that in class. But experts on the subject called it a myth because there was no actual proof that either of the sons existed." Riley recalled.

"Yes, all of that was part of the legend, but from what I know, there's a lot of variation to it. There was even one variation that claimed that Seti was collecting treasures from the world when he went on crusades for his father, and that when Hafed kept the secret for his brother- all of the gods cursed them; not just Anubis. But there was never actual proof of their existence except by word of mouth and the occasional testament. But this, if this is validated it could be the missing key to what really happened! I would advise you to take it to a museum, the Cairo museum specifically."

Riley raised his eyebrows and frowned, "Go to Egypt?"

"This is possibly a priceless document Mr. Poole; I would suggest to you that it's the best thing to do." Dr. Élan said harshly.

"Well, I will consider it, Dr. Thank you for your help in this matter. I'll tell Abigail you say hello," Riley said, barely resisting the urge to run from the room. That guy was weird. He oddly reminded the young man of his two best friends: History buff, pushy, excited about anything in their category of knowledge, felt the need to explain every detail, distracted…Check, check, and check; that definitely described Ben at least. Abigail was a little less…Ben-like about it.

When he got into his bright red Ferrari, he failed to notice the car across the street with the two men who were staring intently at him, watching his every move. Riley also failed to notice the small micro chip tracking device attached to the back of his car, and that as soon as he pulled out the two men got out of their tan Cadillac and walked into the building. Up to the very room he had come from. But then again…why would he notice anything like that? It's not like he was expecting it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Ok, so I realize it has been a long time since I've updated. I'm sorry:-) Ok, this isn't much, and sadly, there is no Riley this chapter, but just you wait until the next chapter! It will be Riley everything. Lol. So here goes, I will continue to elaborate on the stories as it goes along. Feel free to inform me of mistakes, I haven't gone over it in a while.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own National Treasure, Riley, or any member of the gang. Sigh**

The curator of the British museum had been more than happy to speak with them; he was their "biggest fan." At least that's how he put it. When they told him they were looking into something he was nearly ecstatic. They politely smiled and told him what they were interested in.

"The Mary Rose treasure," he scoffed at them, "That is a bunch of shite. Don't let yourselves be dragged into something that's made up to attract tourists."

"It's fake then?" Abigail asked in surprise.

"Oh the ship was real enough, but there was never any treasure, at least none that made it onto that ship. Maybe at one point the fabled treasure of that secret society was real, but really its just here say. I'd advise you to spend your time in England doing something worth your time and energy." the middle aged man before them advised.

"Are you certain that there's nothing to it? We read in a local newspaper about some letters written by,"

The man cut her off abruptly, "Written by King William, yes I know. I've heard all of the stories, but there is no basis for anyone to believe the treasure was real. Like I said before, it was a tourist attraction; England was trying to draw people here. No such legitimate document has been validated."

"Have you researched into this though? I mean, if it were true, it could be a priceless piece of evidence to a long missing part of history."

"_Mr. Gates_, what kind of curator do you take me for? Of course I've researched it! Long before word of it hit the public; and as I have stated before, there is no basis for any of it. It's all a bunch of, how do you Americans say it? 'Crapola'"

Ben exchanged a glance with his wife who shrugged nonchalantly.

"I'm sorry if I offended you sir, I was just trying to get all of the information I could. I just find the subject to be fascinating,"

"I suppose I could forgive your ignorance this once, but in the future I would advise you not to listen to the local gossip or hear-say."

"Alright," Ben said with a cheesy grin, "Well, thank you for your time, we'll be sure to stop in and visit again sometime,"

The curator's disposition brightened clearly at the idea that this subject was over and his two bothersome visitors would soon be gone. But he couldn't help being polite to them, they were after all some of the most famous treasure hunters in the world, _and_ they had donated a sizeable portion of the treasure to the museum itself. So he simply smiled. "Please do, you are welcome here anytime; and let me say, that I am so glad that I finally got the chance to meet you. My predecessor told me so much about you; you see I'm relatively new here. But I've followed your adventures from day one. If you need anything at all, you give us a call and we'll see what we can do for you. Now, go and enjoy England."

Ben thanked the man and gave him his card in case they needed to be in contact again.

"Well, he was…interesting," Abigail commented as they walked out. "I guess that's the end of our little treasure hunt," she said, symbolically snapping her fingers the universal sign language for: "Oh Darn!"

"No, I'm not certain, but I think he was lying. Or maybe just holding something back. Either way, I'd like to look into it a little more. Maybe go check out the remains of the Mary Rose,"

"Ben!" Abi wined in exaggeration. "One, why must we always look for treasure? Two, if there was anything on the Mary Rose; it's bound to be gone now."

"I know that, Abigail, I do; but there's always stuff that people miss. Maybe we'll get lucky," he replied cheerfully, ignoring her first question.

Abigail sighed; the things she did for her man…

"Fine Ben, but can this be it? If we don't find anything there, can we just go back to our honeymoon?"

"Yes! Yes, I'll even take you ballroom dancing and to any- and I do mean _any_- place you want to go. Ok?" he replied happily.

"Alright," she relented with a role of her eyes.

Ben smiled and wrapped an arm around her waist as they walked, pulling her close to him, "Have I told you how amazing you are?" he whispered in her ear.

--

The couple stood on the docs of questionable safety, looking over the angrily rolling waters. The sky had taken on a grey hue, and a queasy sense of foreboding hung heavily in the air. The ship in question was set at the end of the docks, a valuable piece of history in itself. It stood tall and firm, yet exceedingly fragile. To think that this ship- or what was left of it- had been under water for over a hundred years. As they climbed the steps to the deck, they were greeted by a scruffy looking sailor with an ill-tempered aura.

"This is the ship, look around." he ordered, "But don't touch anything, move anything out of place, or disturb the peace. If you're looking for treasures go elsewhere, the Mary Rose is not a treasure ship."

"Erm, alright," Ben said giving him a thumbs up. The architecture of the ship reflected its age beautifully, although the hulls and walls were all water damaged. They were unique, and graceful, and every once in a while a strange symbol would pop up and Ben would take a picture for later research.

"Ben, I think the curator was right, nothing here seems out of ordinary for the age. I mean look at this stuff, even if there were any clues or anything they could be long damaged or decayed." Abi said, gesturing to the ship around her.

"Well, I've seen a few things worth investigating, but there's one thing I'd like to look for. A captains log, or some similar record of events,"

"What, like star trek?" she teased.

He gave her a "very funny" look and turned back to his search when something caught his eye. It glinted at him from a small nook in the ship.

"What's this?" he asked curiously, pulling Abi along with him so they could investigate.

"It looks like a piece of metal encased in the side of the ship…why would there be metal in the ship?" his wife wondered aloud.

"I Don't know," he mused, snapping a shot of it with his camera before reaching into the little nook.

Suddenly he felt a meaty hand on his shoulder, emitting so much force that he was sure it was not Abigail.

"I thought I said, 'No touching!'" a nasily voice erupted from behind him.With that, he was yanked away from the wall.

"


	7. Chapter 7

**A note to the readers: I know this is taking forever! You must forgive me for this, but at the moment school and trying to figure out what I will do with my life has, well, consumed my life. But don't worry, I'm working on it. And I hope you are not disappointed, but this is a short chapter, but it's comical. Hopefully that makes up for it. The next two chapters are gonna be pretty long I'm thinking'. So, here's a little snippet to keep you going. :- ) **

**Disclaimer: I own all. Everything. The earth, the moon, Pluto (which I will forever call a planet; it's just not right for them to change something I've known almost all my life…), the air you breathe, the flowers, National Treasure. But wait! Just in case you were confused, this is only true in my dreams. So, no. I don't own anything in the real world, except for the things I really do own…if that makes sense. Lol. But I do not own National Treasure or any of its characters.**

"Well? What did you find out?" the elder man asked impatiently, hounding Riley the moment he stepped through the door to the book store. "Is it worth a billion dollars? Am I gonna be rich? Why couldn't I come with you?"

"Calm down would ya? You remind me of a squirrel on speed. And that's saying a lot, because you're old and most squirrels already act like they're on speed. I don't know how much the document is worth, I forgot to ask…"

"You forgot to ask?! What were you doing out there, eating pancakes? I told you I should have come with you."

Riley rolled his eyes and continued, "What I _did_ find out was that the document is very valuable. The guy I went to see told me I should go to Egypt to find out more about it and get it validated. It could possibly prove an ancient legend."

"Go to Egypt? As in the country? That's a little far isn't it?"

Riley gave him a look, "No, Egypt as in the state. The one that's beside Kansas."

"Ok, ok. Just asking, no need to get snippy with me young man. I was just expressing my surprise that you were thinking of going away so far. I mean you're either in England, or France, or some other god forsaken country, I never got to see you in the first place. And right after your grandfather's death. We haven't even arranged the funeral yet!"

"Uncle Jonathan, I'm not leaving before the funeral! I was telling you what the man said. In any case, why would grandpa have something like that around unless he meant for someone to find it?" Riley spoke slowly, as though trying to mentally trying to solve some great puzzle.

"It was probably just some antique document that he picked up during the war! Or your grandmother's family gave it to him, she was Egyptian you know. And she meant the world to him, so anything given to him by her or someone that represented her to him he would treasure deeply." his uncle reminded him unnecessarily.

"I realize this _Uncle_. Let's just let this go for now, what do you wanna do tonight? Tomorrow we'll go to the funeral home, tonight lets just relax." he suggested trying to push the thought of funeral preparations to the back of his mind.

His uncle stared at him for a long moment, the aged face wrinkled and drawn, seemed to relax. "Ever heard of grave digging?"

Riley's eyes grew impossibly large, "Excuse me?"  
The old man was so not helping his growing headache.

The older man's eyes twinkled for the first time since their reunion, "I was just joking with ya on that one, seeing if you were still with me; no how bout we go to a bar, get a bucket of wings and some fries….knock back a couple beers?"

"Do they let people your age into bars?" he jibbed.

"Are you kidding? People _My _age are pimpin' in the bars."

Riley shuddered in disgust. "Uncle Jonathan! Gross!"

The old man shrugged in _'well, you asked for it…_look.

Riley smiled as an idea grew in his mind. "How about we watch Cas…"

"NO way José. We are not watching that movie again; I tell you I've seen it a million times. I know every word and queue in the movie. And not by choice, mind you." Jonathan ground out, a look of boredom in his eyes.

"Hmm…well that doesn't leave us a lot of choices…" Riley told him.

"Well, pick a book and read it to me. God knows your Grandfather has enough books lying around here."

Riley contemplated this and nodded. "Ok."

That evening after the bookstore closed, they went upstairs to the apartment his Grandfather and Uncle had shared. While Jonathan cooked Riley read to him. It was his favorite book of all time. _Moby Dick. _He especially liked and appreciated it more after having his own adventures. And a certain someone who liked to hunt treasure definitely reminded him of Captain Ahab.

The young man's eyes began to flutter closed as their quiet evening came to an end; his last thoughts before darkness were over what he had to do the next day. The two of them were asleep on their respective couches by 9:55, so tired were they. The television had been left on because they had intended to watch the 10 o'clock news.

If they had been awake long enough, surprise would have registered in Riley's mind when the picture of Dr. "Max" Élan appeared on the screen, the report claiming he had been in some sort of accident at work, which had resulted in his death. He didn't know it yet, but tomorrow would be one giant headache; but for now, he was left to his dreams.


End file.
